


Breathe for Bleeding

by FalseProphet (Batmanthegroomer)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 08:21:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3242807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batmanthegroomer/pseuds/FalseProphet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris said it was 'better than anything he could have possibly imagined' but he still walked out. Hawke couldn't understand or he didn't want to.</p><p>Completing the first romance scene with Hawke and Fenris with my own thoughts and conclusions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe for Bleeding

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't tag but there are possible slavery/non-con triggers in here. It's not incredibly explicit, left more to the imagination, and it's tame so I didn't feel like I needed to tag but I did want to warn.

Hawke groaned and swallowed a louder, far more embarrassing sound, as lips parted against his throat. He felt the dull scrape of teeth just above his jugular. He swallowed, his mouth long dry.

"Not that this isn't absolutely delightful," he panted, "but I'm expecting mother home any minute." He curled short fingernails into the wall paper as a tongue lapped against his throat only to be pulled away at his words. His other hand had long since latched itself on to Fenris' waist and it was in no hurry to move.

"That is... unfortunate." The elf sighed, voice heavy through the strange haze that had settled over him. He knew sexual desire--he supposed, he knew what it meant to him and what it had meant to...--but this was different. Sexual desire, yes, but thick and needy and desperate. He was not accustomed to these things together.

Contrary to Hawke's words, a second hand joined in closing in Fenris' waist. The elf tested the bond softly by shifting weight from one side to the other. Hawke's hands were firm, strong, determined. They squeezed at Fenris through tough and unyielding armor and the elf /could feel/ it.

"Hawke." Fenris warned, turning his head to the side as the rogue leaned in. "I must insist... if we are to be interrupted..." Fenris tried to force all his concentration on his voice. It was a near impossible task. Coarse hair scraped against his jaw then his cheek as warm lips danced near his ear. The tiny popping sounds made with each sloppy kiss made the tightening in Fenris' gut intensify.

"You. Must. Stop." Fenris finished, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he tried to make a stand against the assault.

Contrary to Fenris' words, Hawke felt armor-clawed hands gripping tighter at his back. He wondered if Fenris forgot he was wearing the gauntlets as the grip tightened. He wondered if there would be holes in the robe. He wondered if there would be marks on his back in the morning. Maker, he wanted marks on his back in the morning.

"No I... I have an idea." Hawke breathed, turning to press his forehead into Fenris' cheek. He felt the elf tighten like a cat ready to spring under his hands. He kept the analogy to himself; cats tended to remind Fenris of Anders and that would be a mood killer the rogue was sure.

"Your ideas... are always awful." Fenris purred, burying his nose in Hawke's thick, unruly black hair. He breathed in through his nose, and sighed a broken noise through his lips.

"Not this one." Hawke shifted and quickly moved his hands to the backs of Fenris' thighs. Without warning he pulled and hoisted the warrior off his feet, spreading toned thighs to wrap around his hips. He heard Fenris growl, like a dog, and saw a flash of white as the elf bared his teeth. His moan of 'maker preserve me' was swallowed by angry lips.

Fenris pulled his hands up to the back of Hawke's head, digging them into black hair fiercely. He snarled into another kiss, somehow determined to bite Hawke through it though not sure what that meant. He felt a surge of anger through his core at being so manhandled by the human but it only made his need stronger. He drew his hands down through dark hair and gripped at Hawke's face, kissing as fiercely as he fought.

Hawke stumbled forward, pulling a hand reluctantly off the elf's rump to find the wall. Though one of the rogue's biggest turn ons was watching the elf on the battlefield, he often forgot what exactly that meant. Fenris might be shorter than him, might appear smaller, but he was not your average elf. Fenris was a ball of well toned muscle. He was heavier than he looked; he was also still clad head-to-toe in armor. All things Hawke found himself wishing he would have taken into account before hoisting the warrior into his arms.

Fenris was not sure what exactly he wanted to do. He knew on a baser level, but he was in unfamiliar territory. He was permitted--encouraged even, wordlessly--to touch and do as he pleased. He continued to kiss Hawke as if expecting each kiss to tell him something different, to show him something new. He became rather frantic, brushing his lips over too far to the side, too far down, his hands feverishly scraping at Hawke's neck, jaw and cheeks in turn.

Hawke smiled through Fenris' assault. It calmed him down, took weight off his shoulders. He'd been more smitten with the elf than he'd wanted to admit--and for far too long--and was starting to think he'd be forever doomed to fantasize. The frenzied kissing clearly stated otherwise. It would have been adorable had sharp points on the end of deadly gauntlets not provided an anchor. Hawke liked that too, though. He wasn't sure he'd voice that either.

Fenris pulled his lips away to gasp in deeply. His eyes flashed open as Hawke took the opportunity to attack his neck. Fenris' lips parted into a deep moan as a mouth closed over his throat, moist pressure finding the edges of the lyrium markings. He locked his ankles together at Hawke's rear and arched almost completely out of the man's grasp as a tongue traced the edge of a mark. The sensation was unlike anything he'd known before. His body had been so wound up for pain but this... he was not sure what to call this.

Hawke stumbled as Fenris became rigid in his hands. He would have to remember that trick. Clawed fingers dug into his shoulders, near his neck, and he cursed against Fenris' throat. There would certainly be marks there, that was for sure. Hawke was half-certain he heard the elf mewl before shifting again and throwing Hawke off-balance. Thanks to the grace of Andraste it lead to what could have been a well planned fall to Hawke's hastily made bed.

Fenris felt the bed suddenly behind him and he hoisted himself onto his elbows. He felt rage in his blood, his body glowing in response, but he could not tell why. He unlatched his ankles as Hawke leaned forward, an arm on either side of Fenris, hands flat on the bed. Fenris stared up at him as if glaring down a predator. He sat up before he knew what he was doing and pushed Hawke back just enough... just enough to get his hands through the part in the ridiculous red robe.

Hawke let the air escape his lungs in what could have been a grunt as Fenris pushed him back. He stiffened and hissed through his teeth at the scraping of metallic fingers against his bare chest, up and over his shoulders as the elf did everything in his power to destroy the robe. Hawke leaned forward slightly and attempted to find ties or latches or buckles to undress Fenris. He was met with something hard and spiked in every direction he turned. He heard Fenris grumble, fingers trapped in the sash at Hawke's waist.

"This is shit." Hawke barked, pulling back. "Let me." He turned his attention to the robe himself, pushing away Fenris' hands. He struggled with the sash himself, cursing as he shrugged the robe from his shoulders. He heard metallic clanging and leather groaning which told him Fenris understood.

Fenris made quick work of his armor, muscles able to remember the steps even in his sleep. He was expected to be ready at a moment's notice and had gotten numerous days of practice until he could dress and undress himself in the blink of an eye. He tossed his armor haphazardly to the floor, and moved now-bare fingers to his breeches. Hawke was standing too close in front of him for standing to be possible. He let himself fall back onto the bed and arched his back to pull his rump off so that he could slide his breeches entirely to the floor.

It took Hawke far less time to undress. He gave himself a second to look over the elf and immediately his thoughts produced: the lyrium... it's /everywhere/. He swallowed again, shedding his pants before moving forward to help the elf. He heard Fenris gasp as Hawke's hands joined his in pulling free the breeches. He felt cautious, impossibly green eyes on him and he glanced up to meet the gaze. Hawke felt a bolt of electricity run straight down his spine as he tossed Fenris' pants over his shoulder.

Fenris felt his body shake, like tiny tremors, and he tried unsuccessfully to will it to stop. He was not sure if he was preparing for battle or for the unwanted advances of an owner long gone. He knew it was neither of those things but his body would not accept reality. Hawke was soon all he could see, all he wanted to see, and he ignored his body's complaints and warnings for his body's desperate desires. He ran his hands up the length of Hawke's chest, fingers running the length of scars and muscles. Fenris chewed on his bottom lip in indecision.

Hawke crawled atop the elf in what he hoped was a seductive manner. He watched as eyes ran over his body, curious and pupils wide as the void. He felt his groin twitch at the unbridled look in Fenris' eyes; that he could make anyone look like /that/ was an ego boost he hadn't known he needed. Hawke reached out and took hold of Fenris' chin, pressing his thumb squarely between the lyrium lines. He captured thin lips and lowered some of his weight off his arms onto the elf.

Fenris gladly accepted Hawke's body atop his own. The weight grounded him, pressed him into the bed, into something solid. His flesh burned and his body tingled at so much contact against his scars. He wanted it to hurt because he understood that. He could latch onto that and work his body through it, rise to meet the challenge and push forward. But it /didn't/ hurt. It did something just as powerful but it didn't hurt. He crushed his lips against Hawke's and reached up to pull the rogue closer to himself.

Hawke felt himself make full contact with Fenris. His erection suddenly pressed against the elf's, trapped between their bodies. He moved to break the kiss and reached down to grab Fenris' waist with one hand, sliding the other between a tanned shoulder and the bed. He tilted his head down and nosed Fenris' chin until the elf tilted his head back. Hawke wasted no time in quickly capturing the exposed throat. He heard Fenris gasp and he drew his tongue along lines of lyrium once more.

"Haah. Ah!" Fenris yelped and his hands instantly moved down to Hawke's hips. He clawed at taunt flesh, digging his heels into the bed as his back arched again. He wanted Hawke to stop but only if the rogue promised never to quit. His mind was a torrent, a slave to the rise and fall of his flesh. He thrust his hips upwards and slid his erection against Hawke's. He was not proud of the sound he made in response, so he repeated the action and bit back a repeat moan.

Hawke swore against the flesh of Fenris' throat. He froze for a moment, latched onto glowing flesh as the elf continued to rut against him. The hand he'd clamped over Fenris' hip moved down. He let the heel of his palm ride the jut of Fenris' hip bone. He continued to move his hand down, running fingers along the back of Fenris' thigh and pulling the leg up once he reached a knee. He felt Fenris tense as if resisting the motion before throwing his head forward and kissing Hawke with enough force to knock him out had he not expected it.

Fenris felt the need to climb through Hawke's body. His hands covered every inch of Hawke they could find in wild abandon. He didn't know where to put them; he didn't know what to touch or what to do. He felt heat behind his fingertips as if he were branding Hawke the way he had been branded. His leg bent over Hawke's hip left his own waist canted upwards, exposed and wanting as the human rocked them together. Blessed, filthy, painful friction. Fenris' hands stuttered to a stop; one tangled into Hawke's hair and the other under his left arm. He heard a single curse fall from Hawke's lips against his ear. His head swam.

"I don't... I don't have anything." Hawke grumbled, breathless and surprised he had words to convey what he needed to. Fenris' hands left trails all over his body. He could still feel the ghost of desperate fingers along his stomach, curled against his chest. Fingers tangled in his hair made his eyes roll into the back of his head. He rocked against Fenris again, left hand daring to move inwards towards the elf's entrance.

"It doesn't matter." Fenris managed, back arching into Hawke's touch. He freed his mouth from Hawke's heat and gasped in a breath, unable to open his eyes. He felt a finger test at his entrance, Hawke's whole body stiff. The warrior brought his lips down to claim Hawke's once more, huffing out a breath onto the rogue's cheek. He wrinkled his nose and sneered as Hawke shook his head and the finger slid away. Fenris tightened his leg over Hawke's waist.

Hawke shoved his face into the crook of Fenris' neck, kissing a lyrium brand. He moved his hand away from Fenris' opening to crawl slowly up the elf's erection. He opened his eyes against the bed cover as Fenris began to writhe beneath him. The elf seemed to push into and away from Hawke at the same time. His hips rolled and his back arched. He let out a groan like he had felled a particularly challenging foe. Hawke was unprepared for a shift in power and thus could put up no fight as he was rolled onto his back.

Fenris again felt an anger at his core that was strange, alien, non-hostile. He easily rolled Hawke to his back and pinned him with no resistance. Their legs were tangled beneath them, as eager as the rest of them to join. Fenris sat up, reluctantly moving away from the warmth of Hawke's body. He could see the man beneath him clear as day in the glow from his own body. Abdominal muscles taunt and ready, chest labored with breath too hard to catch. Fenris reached behind himself with deft fingers and found Hawke's member.

"Maker." Hawke groaned, hands moving to Fenris' waist in anticipation. A worry settled in his gut about what was to come. He hadn't so much as touched Fenris in preparation and now it was clear what the elf intended. Hawke swallowed that Fenris knew his own body better than Hawke and he closed his eyes. Fingers along his erection send shockwaves through his body, tightening every muscle he had and some he'd never known existed. He'd had sex before but nothing like this, nothing so thrilling as having Fenris' hands on his aching need.

Fenris tucked his chin against his chest as he guided Hawke's erection towards his opening. He could feel fingers worrying against his hips, pressing in and rubbing small circles. Each swipe of a pad against a brand made his flesh crawl and his core ache as if something was missing but there was no room for it. He shifted to lean forward onto his knees just slightly and took a second to rub Hawke's erection around the ring of muscle, smearing copious amounts of precum to help ease the process.

Hawke was in the process of taking a breath to tell Fenris to stop, maybe this wasn't such a good idea without some kind of preparation, but as usual Fenris was two steps ahead and so much faster. Hawke felt a sudden swift hollow in his gut as he was suddenly engulfed by Fenris. He arced up off the bed, knees bending and body taunt. One push and Fenris had immediately taken all of him. His hands shook and stuttered against the elf's waist as his vision slowly began to return to him. He let out a broken sigh and fell heavily back onto the mattress.

Fenris' eyes squeezed shut and his body curled inward. There was a sensation he knew; a sensation he could put a name to; a sensation he could cope with. He felt the human tremble under him, twitch within him, and he slowly opened his eyes. He laid his hands against Hawke's abdomen and felt muscles clenching under his fingers. Lips parted, eyebrows drawn in, eyes closed impossibly tight, throat straining to swallow. Fenris quickly lifted himself nearly free of the penetration before sliding back down. Something he knew. Something he could trust... but still he burned.

Hawke was going to die. It was going to be the most glorify-ingly embarrassing moment of his life but at least he wouldn't be alive to remember it. He let out a deep 'huh' of breath as Fenris re-sheathed himself, his arms limply moving with the elf as if his hands were stuck to powerful hips. A soft weight fell onto his stomach as the elf leaned forward onto Hawke, bringing them closer as he started to work himself over Hawke's erection. The elf was so tight and warm and Hawke couldn't give himself to think. His hips jerked up to meet a thrust and Fenris made a noise that coiled in Hawke's groin like a snake waiting to strike.

Fenris began moving quickly, as quickly as he could as every part of him lit up like magefire. He was not frequently given permission to be 'on top' as it were but he was knowledgeable enough about what it entailed. With Danarius it... But this was not Danarius. This was different and new and the same. The feeling of Hawke inside him was distinct. The elf could feel himself molding to the intrusion through the pain and haze he'd created for himself. With Danarius pain was the best escape. He could think about the hurt like a battle wound and drive his mind to ignore what was happening, what he was forced to share... but this was /not/ Danarius!

Hawke was suffocating both from lack of oxygen and from Fenris; lovely, perfect, wild Fenris. Struggling to convince his body to listen to something other than his dick, Hawke opened his eyes and tilted his head to watch the elf at work. White hair obscured Fenris' face as he kept his head tilted down. Hawke could hear the small noises caught between wanton moaning and frustrated sobs but he couldn't see them fall from thin lips. He felt powerful hands clutching at his stomach as if looking for a hold, for something solid to grab. He cursed and licked his lips, jerking his hips to meet Fenris yet again and watching the spasm course through.

Fenris couldn't close his mouth through the panting, the noises he was making that he could not convince himself to stop. He found he was soon grinding instead of lifting himself off the human. He was seeking pleasure for himself in a way he'd never done before. He rolled Hawke's erection inside himself as he strained to stimulate his own against whatever he could find. There was something just out of his reach that beckoned him but there was no room for it. He slid a hand down towards himself and touched his member of his own free will. His fingers still itched for the thing he could not take into himself.

Hawke had stamina. He had gone for hours with other men before--with plenty of time to build up included, of course--but this was it. He was done. He felt himself teetering on the edge and he was looking forward to the fall. He pulled a hand away from Fenris' rocking hips and lifted it to the elf's face. He felt himself throb powerfully inside the elf and Fenris echoed the sensation with a noise that had Hawke digging his heels into the bed. Before he lost the ability to do so Hawke reached up and slipped fingers into Fenris' hair at his temple, pulling away the white curtain that he might see the elf's face at least for a second before his climax blinded him.

Fenris began panting entirely unable to breathe as his movements gave in to staccato. He felt a hand at his temple, in his hair and he leaned towards it to anchor himself. He opened his eyes slightly, half-lidded, to focus on Hawke's face. The instant their eyes met he watched the man unravel beneath him. He felt heat through him as Hawke's erection throbbed and stained Fenris from the inside with it's signature. Hawke's jaw tensed and then quivered in a visual representation of the sound that accompanied his orgasm. Fingers tightened in Fenris' hair and he hiccuped back a moan. It was like watching a man die.

Hawke rode out his finale as long as he could, struggling to identify a time when he'd felt so good inside and out. As he floated back down to reality he hissed through his teeth. Fenris was still grinding against him, he was still inside the elf, spent and over-sensitive but still so good. He watched as Fenris closed his eyes, face contorted in something that almost looked like pleasure. Hawke moved stiff and tired hands to the junction of Fenris' thighs. He heard the elf swallow hard and nearly whimper as Hawke's fingers danced over his weeping erection. Hawke closed a fist around the shaft and began swirling his thumb over the head, watching as Fenris' body jerked and spasmed with each swipe.

Fenris wanted more and he wanted less, but the fact remained that he /wanted/. He could not explain the sensation of Hawke's hands on him in that way, he could not even compare it to something he knew. Danarius had... And there it was, just within reach. That missing piece, that thing Fenris had struggled for. He felt it smooth under his fingers as his feet burned, his body tightened every possible part of itself. He wanted that fullness. He wanted the thing he could not make room for even knowing somehow it was going to break him apart... if Hawke did not get there first.

All he had to do...

Was reach...

Hawke's eyebrows raised and he swallowed a noise, wondering if he'd just experienced a second orgasm. Fenris arched his back and gave Hawke a marvelously un-obscured view of his expression as he reached the threshold. Hawke's hand was coated but his mind was stuck on the look on Fenris' face, the far-away gaze in his eyes. It was as if Fenris was experiencing some kind of sex-induced epiphany. If the sensation of orgasm could be conveyed by face alone, Fenris had done it. He had reached something, found something, taken something into himself as he expelled tension and everything bad he'd kept locked up.

Fenris didn't know where he was. He knew--the Hawke Estate, with William... Kirkwall--but he didn't /know/. His body was not his own and he could not move. His thoughts were captured and far away as his mind was ripped open. Moments ago it had been full, so packed with everything and now it was empty. So cold and alone and there was nothing there but what Fenris had made for himself. Seconds ago there had been substance, another life entirely and it had felt right and Fenris had felt complete. But it was gone. It was gone and Fenris had always known it to be gone but now he /felt/ it's absence and he did not know what to do with that lack of... himself.

Hawke braced Fenris and rolled to his side, carefully pulling the elf with him. The warrior was pliant and soft in his arms and it was simultaneously right and unnatural. Hawke slipped himself free of Fenris, breathing out in the process and wondering if he couldn't have maybe just stayed a little longer. He shifted and moved Fenris with him until they were curled together on their sides. They could clean up later--it wouldn't be as easy or as pleasant--but they could do it. Maybe together. In a warm bath. For now Hawke draped an arm over Fenris' side and pressed a chaste kiss to the back of the elf's neck.

Fenris opened his eyes slowly to stare at the far wall. Hawke had unraveled him and tied him back together stronger but there were pieces locked out, pieces forced in place that didn't belong but damnit did Fenris want them to. The stuck out like roses on a thorny vine tangled so tightly around him he couldn't breathe for bleeding. Hawke's arm draped over him and he tried to relax and find sleep. He wished he could say he hated it, that he cared nothing for Hawke because he was in trouble now... and he feared for both their lives.


End file.
